


IRL

by reigningqueenofwords



Series: the Games We Play [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:00:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21854911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reigningqueenofwords/pseuds/reigningqueenofwords
Relationships: Dean/reader
Series: the Games We Play [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1413232
Comments: 1
Kudos: 15





	IRL

For the first time in your life- you were throwing in the towel. You were walking away from the case, and getting far away from Dean Winchester. Far away from the man that couldn’t even be bothered to show up to talk things out. You’d been willing to hear him out, to talk to him, to see if there was hope outside of World of Warcraft. 

* * *

Dean looked around, looked in every car window. You were nowhere to be found. “Fuck.” He felt his heartbeat speed up. If he didn’t find you now, he’d never see, or hear from, you again. You’d be lost to him. He’d seen your car that first day, so he figured he’d drive around. The first place he would look was the police station, hoping that maybe you went about working on the case.

* * *

The moment you walked into the room, you let yourself break down. You sobbed, your back hitting the door. Letting yourself slide down to the floor. You were a hunter, and you felt weak. Weak enough to let him break you like this. Kicking off your heels, you wiped your cheeks. Your chest ached as if someone reached into your chest and was crushing your heart.

* * *

There was no luck at the police station. Your car was nowhere to be seen. Dean kept driving towards the crime scenes that you’d visited the day before. As he neared the first scene, he forced himself not to hope to see your car. However, it swelled inside him, burning like a fire.

When he didn’t see your car, it was like he’d been punched in the gut. He wasn’t about to give up the search, however. He couldn’t.

* * *

You’d stripped from your ‘FBI’ gear, dropping it piece by piece onto the end of your motel bed. It was like the world was pressing down on your shoulders, making you feel like you weighed a ton. Taking a deep breath, you unhooked your bra, and slid down your underwear. Actions you had done a million times, but felt so foreign.

All you wanted right now was a long, hot shower to relax, and focus on what you planned to do next.

* * *

The second scene passed. Then the third. He was nearly at the edge of town when he stopped. Nothing. No sign of you anywhere. Dean put his head on the steering wheel, closing his eyes, and taking deep breaths. All he could do was turn around, head back to the motel, and hope for the best. Not that it had done him any good up until that point.

* * *

Stepping out of the shower, you grabbed one of the cheap, slightly scratchy towels and wrapped it around your body. Your hair hung at the sides of your face like curtains. As you opened the bathroom door, the steam billowed out into the rest of your room. It was like you were on automatic.

* * *

The whole way back through town, Dean had the music up, shutting down his angry thoughts. Anger mainly as himself, but that would have to wait.

As he pulled into the motel parking lot, he had his first speck of luck that day. There sat your car, trunk open. He parked the Impala behind it, forcing you to need to talk to him.

* * *

You froze when you saw Dean as you walked out of your room, your last bag over your shoulder. He was leaning against the back of your car, arms crossed. “What do you want?” You snapped, putting your bag in the trunk.

“I want to talk to you.” He shrugged.

“Oh, because doing that this morning at the diner, like we agreed would have been too much of a hassle?” You shot back. “Late night with one of the women from yesterday?”

He groaned. “No!” Standing up, he took a deep breath. “Last night I drank a bit too much, passed out in the back of my car. I got to the diner two minutes after you left.”

Shaking your head, you moved to shut the trunk. “I’m leaving. You can finish the case yourself. Or wait for Sam. I don’t care either way.”

Dean clenched his jaw. “You can fucking at least _talk_ to me! I think that finding out the woman I fell in love with happened to fuck my brother, and me getting to the diner late makes us even.”

“Are you an _idiot_? I didn’t know who you were! You _knew_ about the diner, and yet, you still went out drinking.” That made no sense to you. Moving to get in your car, you groaned. “Really? Blocking my car with yours? Are you a teenager?!”

“I’ll move Baby, and tell you why I was out drinking if you agree to talk to me.” His eyes locked with yours.

“You have 15 minutes, and that’s being generous.”

He smiled, although there was still sadness in his eyes. “Uh, can we go to one of our rooms so this isn’t in the parking lot?”

“It’ll have to be yours. I’m all checked out.” You pointed out, and he simply nodded.

* * *

You were sitting in one of the chairs while he paced. He had yet to really say anything, and you were currently staring at the floor. After what seemed like an eternity, Dean broke the silence. “I’ll start with the drinking.” His green eyes looked over to you, where he could see the heartbreak in your eyes. “I was fucking _angry_ , okay? I realized that the woman I’m in love with, had slept with my baby brother. _He_ knew what it felt like to hold her, and I- I…” He sighed, trying to control his emotions. “I only wanted to have a couple beers. Help myself think, and calm down. When I got to the store it hit me- we would never work out. Just for how you saw me act. Knowing that the woman I’m in love with would probably never speak to me the same way killed me.” Your eyes were watering. “I shot myself in the damn foot without realizing it!”

“You flirted with everything in a skirt! **_AND_** the bartender we spoke to.” You pointed out. “Hell, I was the only one you didn’t flirt with.”

Dean nodded, hands on his hips. “I know. And I didn’t flirt with you because you’re a hunter, and you’d slept with Sam!” You raised an eyebrow.

Standing up, you ran your hand through your still damp hair. “How am I supposed to feel? How you are online, and how you are in real life are two _completely_ different people. Online you’re funny, caring, sweet, and caring. Here? You’re brash, you’re crude, you flirt like crazy, and I’m _pretty_ sure you’re ‘every hunter for himself’. Well, except for Sam.”

“I know. I know.” He groaned. “You got the real me. You got the me I can’t show in our line of work. You got the me I can’t show anyone else. Aside from Sammy, you know me best. Hell, in some ways? You know me _better_ than him!” His eyes were begging you to believe him, but you weren’t sure that you could. “I meant every word that I told you online. I love you, Y/N. That woman that I met online, I see standing in front of me. I see the sassiness, I see the spunk.”

You were torn. You wanted to trust him, wanted to run into his arms, but you also wanted to run- fast, and far. “H-how do I know if I choose to trust you, that you won’t be off being exactly how you were yesterday?”

Dean took a hesitant step forward, not wanting you to simply bolt. Reaching out, he cupped your cheek gently. “I know that trusting me wouldn’t be easy, and that you would want to take off at the first sign of trouble- but give me a chance. I will fight every day to be with you. I will group up with you, just like in game. I’ll share my inventory with you. I’ll open fuckin’ trade windows. Stop me at _any_ time, because I’m running out of things to bring from in game, to real life.”

Sighing, you couldn’t help but smile. “Trying to get me with the nerdy talk?” You teased him, enjoying the way that his hand felt on your skin. He chuckled, and you swore you saw him blush. Biting your lip, you gathered your courage, leaning up and very gently brushed your lips against his for a moment. “I will…give you a chance. I’m _not_ saying that I trust you just yet, but you couldn’t have pulled that online persona out of your ass, right?”

His face lit up at the fact that you were giving him a chance. “I promise, I’ll earn that trust.”

* * *

##  _–1 year later–_

“What the hell?!” You laughed. “I’m dying! _HEAL ME_!”

Sam groaned. “Give me a break. I’m new at this.” He gave you a quick heal, trying to keep up. “Why would you take on a mob that size?”

After you died you shook your head and sighed. “Because I _thought_ that we taught you well. Turns out, you suck at healing.” You laughed.

“Of course I do! I kill things all the time. What makes you think I could do this?”

Dean walked in, eating an apple. “Is he _still_ bitchin’?” He asked as he chewed.

You looked over your shoulder at him. “More like moaning and groaning. Trying to tell me he can’t heal because he’s a damn hunter.”

“He just doesn’t want to admit that he sucks.” He smirked.

Sam got up. “Okay. I’m done.” He chuckled. “I’m not playing healer anymore.” As he walked out, he patted Dean on the shoulder. “You can deal with her.”

Dean gave him a funny look and watched him walk out. “What the hell’s up with him?” He asked as he sat down. You shrugged. “Wanna do a quick instance before we head out?”

“First…” You logged off the character you were on. “Hop online. I want to show you a new character I made.”

“Why make a new one?” He asked as he sat down across from you. “You’re a level 110 with _awesome_ gear. Don’t tell me you want to do that all over?”

“Just log on your damn toon.” You chuckled, waiting for his name to pop on. “I’ll send you a group invite. Don’t give me that look!” Sending the invite, you bit your lip, waiting for him to realize what the character name was.

Dean was staring at his screen. “Ar- wha- does that say what I _think_ it says?” He pointed at the screen, his eyes looking up at you.

Smirking, you nodded slowly, your eyes looking at your screen. The character was a level one Goblin hunter with a very special screen name.

_BabyWinchesterDue2018_

Normally, you hated names like that, but you never planned to play it. You just found it fitting telling him the same way you met him.


End file.
